New Hope
by Huntress of the Moon
Summary: What happens when Alagaesia has another Rider? Will she and her companion unite against the Varden or join them instead? Is there more to her than her looks? Secrets uncovered, relationships blossom...The fate of Alagaesia is about to be altered...
1. Prologue

Okay.. this is the prologue to the story. Hope it does not suck to much. My writing style may not suit those who like fast-paced stories, so, you've been warned. Just try not to flame me, okay?

**Disclaimer: **If this was mine, I wouldn't be here! Actually, in this prolouge, only one character belongs to Christopher Paolini. So guess, which one is it?

***

**Prologue**

A moan escaped her as pushed with all her might. At last! The elf triumphantly held up what she had endured nine long months for. A beautiful baby girl stared back at her. Green eyes met blue. The baby had her father's eyes, no doubt, but had at least inherited her slender frame and pale complexion.

Then her face fell. She could not bring this back with her, back to her life where this baby would never fit in. She marvelled at the newborn babe's already-sharpened senses and, pressing her lips to her child's soft skin, glanced back, deep into her eyes, one last time, before vanishing into the cover of night.

Behind her, a mournful cry, lovely in all its sorrow and helplessness, sounded clear in the silent night.

***

**20 years later…**

A young maiden leapt gracefully through the mountain terrain, lithe as a panther. She laughed. It was a beautiful one. Every note in it was clear and lilting, not very different from the trill of a mockingbird. The others would never catch her now!

She stopped by the edge of a lake. Looking down, she examined her appearance carefully. Slanted eyebrows, pointed ears; she was just different. That was not the only thing that put her aside from the rest. She was bigger in size, yet was still as fast as any of them. She had their eyes, which could change its colour as fast as a chameleon; yet still loved reading books in the quaint little attic of the mage's.

She was just _different._ A few years back, she would have loathed it, resented her mother for giving her all those ungainly attributes. Now, though, the rage in her was calmed. She accepted who she was. She began thinking of herself as _unique_, instead of _different_.

Blowing at the smooth surface of the water, she got up, watching the ripples appear one by one. Others said she was wasting time; they preferred to always be at work, doing something _meaningful_. But she enjoyed every moment of it. Just sitting down and observing her surroundings.

A smooth pebble just a few paces away caught her attention. If the others were here, they would have overlooked it, but not she. It was concealed by a seemingly easy but complicated web of moss and plants. It was as if they wanted to _protect_ the stone, but only revealed its presence to her..

Gently, she bent down to dislodge the stone in one swift motion. It had a smooth gray surface, blemished only by silvery-white swirls which adorned its centre. She knocked on its cool surface experimentally. It produced a fine ringing sound, which she allowed to hang in the air for a few moments before fading away.

Relentlessly, she examined the stone. Rubbing it against the sharp granite lining the lake, throwing it once in the air; only she could make any sense out of it. After a few hours, she glanced up. The sky had darkened. Dropping what she was doing, she laid down on the soft ground, cradling the stone in her arms, her star-gazing dropping off into a deep slumber.

Inside the stone, life awakened.

***

Hope none of you died of a heart attack... Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW!!! No pressure, but I'm trying to get 5 reviews before I actually continue this story.


	2. Two lives

Okay, umm... this is my first ever Inheritance Cycle fanfic. Basically, it's about a new Rider in Alagaesia, who holds fate in her hands (do I sound to dramatic?). Anyway, here it is. Enjoy! :P

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any characters from the Inheritance Cycle, apart from Callisto and Arget.

**---**

**Chapter 1: Encounter**

"Ow!" Eragon rolled on his side, arms hung lazily over his head, half-heartedly trying to ward off Saphira's persistent attempts to awaken him.

_We've got a mission to complete, little one. _Saphira jabbed him once more in the ribs. _If you don't wake, I will barbecue you._

"Can't a Shur'tugal have some sleep?" Eragon complained. He and Saphira were about to go on another scouting mission. Just yesterday, he and Saphira crossed swords with a band of, as what Saphira likes to call them, No-Pain. Killing of all of them alone had taken them most of the afternoon; it was not far from midnight when they finally made it back to Surda. Nasuada had then insisted on a full account of what had happened and, despite knowing full well that she was doing it for the good of the Varden, answered her impatiently, which led to an even longer delay so that, when they finally crawled into the comforts of their bed, it was just a few hours before dawn.

A jet of hot-blue flame struck him just inches away from his rib.

_I meant it. _Saphira's eyes twinkled with amusement.

_Fine, you win. _Reluctantly, Eragon prepared himself for the trip. As he unhooked Brisingr from the tent wall, however, he could not deny that a small part of him _was_ indeed excited. They were going to the Hadarac Desert!

Wells of bittersweet memories loomed up before his eyes. Arya, Brom, _Murtagh_. No matter how hard he tried to avoid that particular topic, it kept tugging at his conscious. Up till now, he still could not comprehend his mixed emotions for him. Pity, disgust and fury combined to form a swirling vortex which hammered at his mind.

_Eragon! Stop hurting yourself!_ Saphira's cry jerked him out of his thoughts. He looked down. Red blotches splattered across his palm where he had gripped at them.

_Let's go._ Shouldering his quiver, Eragon strode out of the tent, Saphira trailing behind. Nothing was going to stop him from confronting Galbatorix. _Nothing._

***

"Great shot!" The receiver of the praise blushed in delight. An arrow embedded itself into the heart of a great oak tree, so far away that it would have been just a tiny speck to any human onlooker.

"Anu Callisto's arrow" She intoned, facing her palm upwards toward the direction of her target. It was nothing but a slight blur as the arrow sped back towards its owner. Callisto grinned as she caught it nicely in her outstretched hand.

_A nice shot indeed, _hummed her companion from behind her. He spread his wings as she clambered onto his scaly back, poised for flight.

_Ready?_

_Let's go. _Callisto ducked her head down as the chilly night breeze stung her cheeks, brought by the increasing velocity of Arget's flight. Two minds as one, they soared through the night sky, making loops and turns Callisto never thought possible for a nine-month-old dragon of this bulk. Her heart soared with joy.

_They day after tomorrow and I will turn twenty-one! _Sprites considered this a prestigious event, as it meant both the sprite's coming of age, but also his claim to numerous new rights. It was also the day when a sprite's _garcenio wielda_, or Weapon-for-Life, granted. This was made by the ancient spirits of their ancestors, suited to each individual. Every weapon is unique, different from all others. Stealing another's weapon was considered a grave sin.

_I'm happy for you, young one. _A rumble of laughter sounded from her dragon. _We should go back. Remember your journey tomorrow? You should be well-rested. The Hadarac Desert is quite a distance, especially in broad daylight._

Callisto understood what he meant. Every sprite has to make a visit to the Sacred Groves in the Hadarac Desert, ever since their ancestors' historic journey across the barren landscape in search of freedom. That posed a problem to them though. She could not leave Arget just for the trip; they both needed the gods' blessing, but neither can they avoid the possibility of him being seen, with Arget's vibrant array of silvery-white scales, which shone brightly under the light.

_Goodnight, young one._ A wave of assurance swept over Callisto as Arget lifted one silvery wing over her. They slept under the ancient vast sky, as had all the generations before them.

---

Good? Bad? What do you think? Please review! All suggestions are welcomed! You might also have noticed that I included a new race, the sprites, into the story. Basically, they are somewhat like elves, but prefer to stay hidden in the wild, thus masking their existence. Son after I decide to continue this fanfic, I will post a prolouge, as well as a list of


	3. Friend or Foe?

**Chapter 2: Friend or Foe?**

_This is _so _boring! If not for Nasuada-_

_-And Arya-_

_-I would have-_

_-Stayed in camp! _So far, all they had seen a few friendly Urgals, unless sand and the blazing hot sun. Nothing much really.

As Eragon scanned his surroundings, a sudden glint of silver caught his eye. Both Saphira and Eragon stopped midair to have a better look.

_Just my eyes playing tricks. _Eragon decided, abandoning the search.

_No, look! _Looking through Saphira, he saw what Saphira had seen moments earlier. A faint silver-white shimmer hung at the other end of the Hadarac Desert.

_A cloud? _Eragon wondered.

_Can't be, its descending from the Beor Mountains!_

_You've got a point. _Even with his elf's eyesight, Eragon had to squint to discern what it was.

_Must be one of Galbatorix's foul inventions, _suggested Saphira, accelerating as Eragon spurred her on. The thing before them seemed not to have noticed their presence, but was also zooming towards the desert at supernatural speeds.

_I don't know whether that is possible, but it looks like... a dragon to me._

_Saphira! Are you sure this is not another of your ambiguous hopes? _Eragon laughed at the ridicule of the suggestion, but also at the horrible possibility that it might be true. If Galbatorix had managed to get the last egg to hatch, any hopes of victory for the Varden would be vanquished.

As they neared the dragon, or whatever it was, Eragon realised that it _was _a dragon, and was a male one too. He was unlike any he had seen. His scales were a beautiful pearly white, the spikes on his neck a brilliant snow white. As the mighty dragon flew towards them, Eragon couldn't help but notice that the dragon's scales seem to glow bright silver whenever they were under the light.

Eragon felt both he and Saphira tense as the dragon and its mystery Rider halted thirty paces away from them. As the Rider turned to look at him, Eragon nearly staggered from the impact.

_Arya? _

_No, _Saphira responded, _this person's eyes are blue, not green._

A wave of reassurance swept over him as he realised, despite the silky black hair that hung along her frame, reminding him sorely of Arya, this woman looked roughly his age and had piercing ice-blue eyes. Bile rose in Eragon's throat.

_This could be a formidable enemy, especially if Galbatorix decides to give her certain…gifts. _He consulted Saphira. _What are we going to do?_

_Stay calm, little one. Do not lower your guard._

Eragon nodded, tightening his grip on the hilt of Brisingr as both dragons zoomed forward. To his surprise, he felt a mind lightly brush against his own conscious. It was not advised in combat, due to the fact that invading another's mid also meant that your own was open to intruders.

_We come in peace._ The voice said. It was strangely musical, reminding him once more of Arya. Seeing his uncertainty, the voice repeated its message one more in the ancient language.

Eragon relaxed considerably, but still guarded the rest of his mind with an impenetrable wall, leaving only a pinprick of the surface open, allowing only the exchange of thoughts between the two of them.

Meanwhile, Saphira was exchanging thoughts with the other dragon at a speed Eragon never thought possible. Flashes of memories from each zoomed across his mind, but before he could even capture it, they faded out of sight, only to be replaced by another. Both he and his opponent fell silent, caught up in their counterparts' exchange. A sudden horde of memories welled up inside Eragon, sent by Saphira. He looked through them carefully.

_A beautiful snow-white pebble, adorned with silvery swirls, half-hidden under the rocks…_

_A long thin crack on the side of the stone, strange peeping noises disrupting the silent night…_

_Snatches of Callisto's childhood… her strange looks…the time she spent in the Beor Mountains, the only place where she felt free…_

_Watching as Arget took his first flight, happiness blossoming in her as she watched him grow bigger and bigger each day…_

The following memories came in increasingly fast speeds, as if wishing to be hidden. Eragon saw snippets after snippets of Callisto's training, watching her cast her first spell, _Isidar_, spending her time reading through endless scrolls… However, what Eragon was puzzled about was how little was mentioned of her race.

Her slanted eyes and pointed ears strike him as those of an elf's, however, through her memories, it was evident that she had lived in the wild her whole life. Her companions never seemed corporal enough to be seen clearly before vanishing. They all had pale, dusky complexions, with abnormally large pointed ears and big round eyes.

Their only features which proved that they were not some ancient spirits were their bright ever-changing eyes and bright bird-like laughter, as they moved around the trees, lithe and quick. At closer observations, Eragon noticed that they _did _have solid figures, only that they seemed to be able to melt into their surrounding like a chameleon changing its colour.

_Nasuada would want to know about this, _he commented dryly. _Descend._

Saphira obeyed, sending up a cloud of sand and dust as she landed on the desert floor.

***

Callisto urged Arget to land as she watched Eragon, which she had just discovered was his name, and his dragon, Saphira, land. She alighted from Arget's left side nimbly, watching Eragon do the same. All of a sudden, he leapt forward, a sapphire-blue sword in his name, slashing it through the air.

Callisto understood. Unsheathing her own weapon, she blocked the blow expertly. They exchanged blows repeatedly, the duel becoming more and more heated as they each performed increasingly complicated moves. Eragon, Callisto noted, was perhaps the best swordsman she had ever fought with.

Together, they danced with their swords, thrusting in, dodging out, spinning around, jabbing here and there… a blur to anyone apart from themselves. Finally, as Callisto loosened the grip on her sword, Eragon flicked his wrist in one swift motion, and her sword flew out of her hand, embedding itself in the sand. Callisto admitted her defeat.

"Where do you come from and who are you?" demanded Eragon, sheathing his sword carefully

"I would like to ask the same question too." Callisto answered calmly, taking her time to answer the question.

Eragon hesitated. _Should we tell them?_

_It's your choice. _Saphira replied simply.

"Eragon Shadeslayer, Saphira Bjartskular," he pointed to each of them in turn, "We work for the Varden." Narrowing his eyes, he asked unobtrusively,"You don't work for Galbatorix or the Empire, do you?"

"I work for no one. Besides, who is Galbatorix?"

The question caught Eragon off guard. "What?" he spluttered.

"Our race," Callisto chose her words carefully, "are often oblivious to the world outside our dwellings. We prefer to live in peace and quiet."

"Could you not come with us to the Varden?" Eragon asked. _To prevent Galbatorix from getting to you first,_ he added to himself silently.

_Arget, do you think we should go?_ Callisto consulted her companion silently.

_Why not? It'll be a fun adventure! Besides,_ Arget shuddered, causing the scales on his back to ripple ominously, _if we don't follow them, I have a feeling someone else would be more than eager to have us on their side._

"We'll go." Callisto voiced out loud to the expectant faces of Eragon and Saphira, clambering onto Arget's back swiftly.

She had a feeling she would not be seeing home for a long time.


End file.
